


Triple Ex

by Ancilla



Category: Constantine (TV), DCU, DCU (Comics), Hellblazer & Related Fandoms, Justice League Dark (Comics), Zatanna (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Shameless Smut, Smut, i don’t know how to tag, im proud of the pun in the title, theyre cute ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 06:49:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13735419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ancilla/pseuds/Ancilla
Summary: I’m bad at summaries basically they get drunk and shag





	Triple Ex

Hey John are you busy? Xx  
—  
It seemed like an innocent enough text. After all, they were tentatively “on” again-well, on- ish. Potentially. Were they? Maybe. He’d have to examine it for another ten minutes just to be sure. There was a lot to take in, after all.  
Take the kisses, for example. What did that mean? Was she just signing off on a friendly text? Were they kisses, or was she going by Xatanna Xatara these days? Hadn’t she made a joke about that that one time three years ago? Aha! Was she fondly inviting him to reminisce on those glory days, testing him to see if he was attentive enough to remember? Oh god, but what if she wasn’t? They hadn’t been on the best terms back then, it’d surely be a faux pas to bring it up if that wasn’t the case... oh Christ, dammit, why was he so uninformed on texting etiquette...  
——  
John?? Hey I was just wandering if u wanted to come over to mine, I’ve got a real nice bottle of merlot and I’ve had such a day, I’d love to have it with you.  
—-  
Holy shit- Well, now he had a lot more to analyse. His heart beat faster with the added stress. Yes, he was aware that he was being a fucking sod, a complete saddo, actually, super pathetic, but he’d fucked it up with zee so many times before, skating on thin ice really and-

His phone buzzed, making him jump and knock over his entire table  
“Fuck!”  
He looked at his phone.  
—-  
*wondering  
—  
Well, an invitation was an invitation. The adrenaline rush had made him come to his senses- or away from them. Whatever. He began typing.  
—-  
Sure ze. See you in half an hour  
—-  
He smelled his shirt  
—-  
Sure ze. See you in an hour.  
—-  
Sent.

He paused  
—-  
Xx.  
—-  
He was about to send...  
He stopped himself just in time.

“That could have been fucking embarrassing,” he muttered to himself, pulling off his tie and getting ready to shower.

*************************************

He arranged himself politely outside her front door, and was psyching himself up to knock when Zatanna pulled the door open of her own accord.  
“Zee!”  
Zatanna looked stony, standing in her nightshirt and giving him a dirty look.  
“What do you want, Constantine ?” She stumbled slightly, revealing a bottle of red clutched in her left hand-more than half empty.  
John immediately closed himself off and gave her a steely glance to rival her own.  
“Are you always this hostile to all your old friends, or is the pleasure all mine?”  
Zatanna sighed, and took a swig from the bottle in her hand.  
“Look John, I don’t need this right now, I’m trying to relax and I really don’t want you in my hair when John comes ov- oh. You are John. Whoops.”  
They shared a nervy laugh together, tension broken.  
“You’re drunk, love.”  
“I know. You better come in and catch up to me already.” She pulled him inside and into an embrace. She sighed. “You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had.”  
“I don’t know. I have days like that all the time.”  
Zatanna smiled a warm smile. “I’m glad you came. I knew you’d get it.”  
She reached up and ruffled his hair that he’d actually taken the time to run a brush through before he came, for once, and danced off to the kitchen, bare legs skidding over her plush red carpets.  
John peeled off his coat and sat down on the expansive living room couch. A fire was lit, and the tv was playing a muted show- Frasier maybe? Or perhaps it was Cheers...  
He relaxed into the abundance of velvet cushions, fiddling with his tie. Why had he even worn a tie? It was much too formal. God, when had ties become his thing? He took it off and shoved it into his coat, haphazardly thrown across the couch, hoping Zatanna wouldn’t notice.

“Oh hey John! Look at this baby I got you- oh, you took off your tie.”

Dammit!

Zatanna passed him a full bottle of- what was it?-whiskey of some description, probably expensive and definitely not meant to be swilled out of the bottle as fast as humanly possible, but hey, she was offering- and planted herself next to him on the sofa, shooting him a warm, honest smile that made him feel good and bad at the same time.

John broke the silence first.  
“So, tell me about this day you’ve had?”  
Zatanna sighed and rubbed her head.  
“Ugh. So like, I had like, a thing that happened- you know when something happens and everyone wants to blame you but it’s not your fault, and because everyone is ragging on you you actually do start fucking stuff up and everyone rags on you more and it just kinda wears you down, and you feel heaps bad and no one wants to talk to you and...”  
She rambled on for quite some time, talking a lot but not actually saying anything. After ten minutes Constantine still had absolutely nothing about the event that had triggered his arrival, but it didn’t matter. He listened with an attentive ear, swigging from his bottle every time there was a lull in her ramble.

Eventually Zatanna ran out of words, shutting her eyes and flopping her head on to the soft backboard of her chaise lounge. She smiled into the velvet and gave a relaxed sigh, gazing up at him with half lidded eyes.  
“Those are some lovely peepers you got there, Zee.”  
It wasn’t exactly true. Her eye makeup on one eye had smudged into an amorphous blur of black and grey, and the other eye was now devoid of liner completely, the cosmetics having been rubbed off onto her couch cushions. But it made her flush, and grin hugely like the Cheshire Cat.  
She schooched over closer to him, shoulder to shoulder, and tugged on his bottle impatiently.  
“Manners, Zee! Don’t snatch!”  
She puffed up her cheeks in mock frustration.  
“It’s my bottle, John!”  
John held the bottle out her reach with one hand, pushing her shoulder down with the other and trying not to giggle.  
“That pout is very unbecoming of you, Zatanna,” he lied.  
She laughed, and gave up reaching for his bottle, instead shimmying over into his lap, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, gently stroking the nape of his neck, and fixing him with a soft gaze, which he met.  
John found himself uncharacteristicly nervy at this turn of events, though not unprecedented nor totally unfamiliar, but he brushed it off, running his hands around her neck and over her front, slipping them under the hem of her shirt to stroke at her bare back, feeling her body release its tension at his ministrations.  
“What’s all this then, huh?” he said softly, and perhaps to himself, adjusting his gaze to fix at the divet in her collarbone, their faces moving just a little closer.  
His words did something to Zatanna. She chuckled softly and dipped her head into his shoulder.  
“I love the way you talk,” She hummed into his neck, punctuating it with a small kiss.  
Constantine grinned and sighed, tangling his hand in her hair.  
“That’s not true at all Zee. You loathe the way I talk, and you’ve told me so. Many times.”  
Zatanna hummed again, sliding her face up to his cheek.  
“Yeah, well I’m. allowed. to lie. sometimes.” she murmured in between soft kisses.  
Constantine meant to ask which statement she was lying about, but instead he found himself drawing her into a kiss, droll banter suddenly seeming secondary to the events at hand. She pawed at the back of his head, pulling his face closer while she adjusted herself to straddle him, grinding down on his crotch in a hard, slow rhythm.  
He meant to quip something, anything at her, but he gave up halfway through his thought and grunted instead, tipping his head back and aside from a gentle stroke if on the nape of her neck, letting himself be completely receptive to her attentions.  
Zatanna worked her way down his neck, sucking and licking, hard then soft, the alcohol preventing her from adhering to any discernible style. She sucked and nibbled, with particular attention on his prominent clavicle, making a point of marking it whilst clumsily trying to grind at the same time, falling off balance and making them both giggle. Unperturbed, she began fussing with his shirt buttons, trying to remain sultry with a furrowed brow and a look of intense concentration on her visage.  
“Let me, love.”  
John easily undid his shirt with one hand, and Zatanna made a delighted sound in response. She wasted no time in adjusting her position so she could scrape her teeth over his chest, grinning at the surprised moan she got in response. She pulled her shirt over her own head and tossed it aside, the temperature bracing enough to help her nipples to pert, and she grazed his chest with them, taking his hands in her own to run up and over her breasts until he took control and began palming them of his own accord. She kissed him again, longer this time, savouring him, sucking and nipping at his lip while he thumbed lazily over her nipples.  
Zatanna pulled back gently, maintaining their eye contact as she brushed the hair out of his face and stroked his chest expectantly.  
“What do you want, then.” He asked, playful.  
Zatanna rested her face on his chest and looked up cloyingly.  
“Let’s go upstairssss”  
“Fine by me”.  
Zatanna didn’t move, but kept stroking his chest and gazing at him entreatingly.  
“Oh, for- I’m not carrying you up-  
“Please?”  
“No! I’m not your pool boy-fuck, I mean bellboy- busboy, whatever! I’m not carrying you up!”  
Zatanna whined.  
“Just twitch your nose and we can be up there in a jiffy.”  
Zatanna huffed. “You’re right John. I do hate the way you talk.”  
“Oh?”  
“Yeah”  
Zatanna turned away from him and palmed her brow in concentration  
“Sraitsup... no wait, that’s not it.. s..sriatspus....pusrats...”  
Zatanna gave up and rolled off him, landing sprawled half on the couch and half on the carpet.  
“Guess I’ll just have sleep here tonight”, she sighed, arching her back and casting her eyes up to the ceiling wistfully.  
“Oh, for fucks sake-“  
Constantine stood up and snatched her up roughly by the waist, making her squeal with delight. He meant to carry her bridal style, but she was far too tall and leggy and he was too drunk to manoeuvre her legs over his elbow, so he clutched her to her chest, one arm under her thigh and the other holding her chest to his. He stood up and staggered a little, backing into the couch and cursing, staggering forward and taking one hand off Zatanna so as to grab at the balustrade. Zatanna squealed as she tilted sideways, clutching tighter round his neck as he staggered awkwardly up the first flight of stairs.  
On reaching the platform he lurched sideways, barley managing to set Zatanna on her feet before snatching at the railing and panting heavily. Zatanna took a few unsteady steps toward him and slapped him on the back affectionately.  
“You shouldn’t smoke so much,” she hiccuped in a friendly tone.  
Constantine was too out of breath to answer, so he simply pointed toward her bedroom door with one hand.  
“Get up those stairs, you wanton hussy.”  
Zatanna stuck out her tongue at him and turned to skip lightly up the stairs, her not-quite naked figure stumbling over the last step and half tumbling into her bedroom. Constantine tilted his head to admire the view, before finally catching his breath and following her up, shaking off his shirt with one hand and undoing his belt with another. He hopped awkwardly out of his pants as he entered her door, accidentally tripping and landing on top of her with a grunt.  
Zatanna made an affectionate noise, and rose up on her elbows to pat his head on her chest while he caught his breath again.  
Still panting, he slipped his hand down to peel himself out of his boxers while Zatanna gently twisted her fingers through his hair, murmuring softly. Sliding his hand back up her leg,he started to tug ever so gently at the elastic of her panties-a polite request. He rested his head on her stomach to gaze up at her-seeking her aprovall, her permission to continue.  
Zatanna smiled down at him, absentmindedly stroking his cheek with her thumb. She enjoyed this-the closeness,the intimacy-hell, the alchohol- and she shut her eyes and sighed contentedly, drinking it all in.  
“Are you falling asleep, Zee?”  
Zatanna shook her head enthusiastically.  
“Good.” John yanked down her underwear, making her squeal, then in a brief show of unexpected athleticism, lifted her up by the waist so she rested higher or the bed, slightly upright against the huge mound of various pillows up against her head board. He kissed her some more, palming at her breasts with both hands while she slipped her arms around him again, their kisses all teeth and tongue, she suddenly very aware of the shape of his hard skull under his warm skin, and how it clumsily butted against her own in an effort to help their mouths find purchase together. Moving down to suck at her neck, Constantine slid his palms down her stomach to her thighs, making her moan and pull up closer to him. With one hand, he squeezed at her snatch, rolling the heel of his palm into her a few times, then slipped a finger into her with ease, and then another, feeling her inhale sharply under him, bucking into his palm as he gently crooked his fingers inside her to press into her sweet spot, making her moan softly.  
“You like that, don’t you?” Constantine murmured into her collarbone, beginning to pump his fingers in and out of her in a gentle rhythm, being sure to push his fingertips into just the right spot with every stroke, the addition of a gentle thumbing at her clitoris causing a little whimper to appear on her exhales as she wound her fists into her duvet and dug her heels into her mattress. Zatanna shut her eyes and pushed her face into a pillow, trying to steady her breath and think of nothing, feel nothing except Constantines fingers and the warmth of his body against hers, find a place of zen inside herself where there was nothing except her and John and johns fingers and the sharp little kissing noises of his didgets sliding in and out of her quim, popping and snapping wetly with every thrust.  
Constantine scissored his fingers inside her, making her cry out and raise her hips off the mattress to meet him. John eyed her with faux sympathy.  
“S’been a while, hasn’t it love?” He purred, unable to stifle his grin.  
“Ugh!-shut up,” Zatanna grunted, too drunk to hide her own matching smile.  
Constantine pulled his fingers out of her, to her audible chagrin, and adjusted himself above her, taking his cock in one hand and sliding himself up against her.  
“Ugh! Ahh.”  
She sighed, cheesy grin still plastered on her face as he nudged gently at her entrance. John grinned into her shoulder and lifted his head to look at her face, screwed up in the sensation.  
“Haaa...”  
He pushed inside her, agonisingly slow- then, biting his lip and halfway inside he quickly pulled out, making her yelp in surprise.  
“Ahh!” She inhaled sharply and opened her eyes wide with surprise, half in frustration at being denied him and half impressed at his self control. They made eye contact and both collapsed into giggles.  
John pulled her in for a kiss, nuzzling her face.  
“You’re sooo mean”, she pouted, trying not to smile.  
John grinned into her ear, length still in hand and sliding himself up against her slick vulva, making her shut her eyes with the sensation.  
“You’re sooo drunk, darling..”  
“Ha! You too!”  
“Hmm, you’re right. Maybe I should sleep it off..”  
“No!”  
Zatanna pounced, grabbing him by the shoulders and flipping him onto his back. He widened his eyes in delighted shock  
“Whoa! Alright, I’m awake, I’m awake!” He lay sprawled out on the bed, while Zatanna collapsed into a fit of giggles on top of him, his cock in her hand.  
“Oh my god, you’re so cute- and so very drunk- ow!”  
“Oh my god! I’m so sorry-“ she let go of him and was seized by another fit of giggles, and John joined in as he quickly grabbed at her waist so she wouldn’t overbalance and fall completely off him.  
Zatanna smiled at the gesture, running her hands over where his were resting on her waist and locking gazes with him adoringly.  
John smiled back, and tried to ignore the urgency a more primal part of him was spurring.  
“You’re very, very drunk, love-“  
Zatanna silenced him with a finger to his lips. “I made you come over because I wanted this-“ she leaned down to kiss him, “and I’m not letting you leave until- ugh!” They locked lips again, sucking and biting in a messy kiss “until-haaaa, ugh, I get it” she sucked on his bottom lip, scraping it with her teeth and making him groan in such a way that she couldn’t help but chuckle. She raised herself back up, a little shaky, and took his length in one hand. Taking her time, she lined him up with her entrance, and with a fetching little bite of her lip let herself sink onto him.  
John cursed. Zatanna meant to chastise him playfully, but instead found herself moaning and rolling her head back, hands poised on his stomach like a sitting cat. She gave another relaxed moan, breathing in, shutting her eyes and trying to sink even deeper into his length.  
“Hmmm.”  
She felt drunk, and lusty, but also relaxed and floating. She let herself sit on him, feeling her walls shape around him and rocking herself ever so slightly side to side, conscious of every tiny sensation- the gorgeous, heady warmth climbing up the base of her spine, spreading up under her ribs and into her chest, the way John’s muscles were flexing under his now slick and glistening pelvis, the aggressive little hitch in his breathing that occurred every time she gave him an indulgent flex, the little twitches and gasps he gave as he became ever more increasingly impatient for her to-  
“I need you to move, love” said John, his voice a hoarse and perhaps just a little desperate.  
Zatanna looked at him quizzically in mock consideration, rocking a little more intensely. She ran her hands up and down his chest and bit her lip thoughtfully.  
“Hmmm...no.”  
“Oh?!” John ran his hands up her legs, gripping her thighs tightly. “Now who’s being a bit mean?”  
Zatanna giggled and tucked her head into her shoulder.  
“Meeee.”  
“Oh, please move, Zee-I’m begging you here.”  
Zatanna rolled back on her haunches. She enjoyed having power over him like this. It turned her on, lit a little spark in her she didn’t know she had until the situation arose.  
She bit her lip and shook her head.  
“Cheeky. You just gonna sit up there forever then?”  
She nodded happily.  
“Oh Zee. Always such a tease.” His breath started to hitch., and he took on a pleading tone “but do you think you could move, please?”  
Zatanna liked hearing him beg.  
“Hmm, ok- like this??  
Zatanna jumped up suddenly, giving a hard, jolting thrust that made both of them gasp. Zatanna seemed more surprised than he, and made a shocked expression that made Constantine laugh. “Yes love- just like that!”  
Zatanna started to laugh again. It was cute, but Constantine became unbearably impatient. In one swift, fluid motion, he pulled Zatanna to his chest, rolling her back onto her pillows and wasting no time in thrusting in and out of her in a fast, steady rhythm.  
Zatanna squealed, half gasping, half giggling, and Constantine cursed again at how tight she was around him, having given herself ample time to adjust to him.  
“Ahh! Oh god, Constantine-ugh!” She writhed and whimpered underneath him, whining and moaning in a way shed be far too dignified to do sober. She cried out after one especially delicious thrust and turned to bury her face in one of her pillows.  
“Ugh!”  
Zatanna twisted her body so as to bury her face deeper into her bolster, hugging it to her stomach. “Fuck!”  
Constantine laughed at the the awkward position she was in, and bent her leg up to accommodate himself. Zatanna let out a low moan at this new position, unthinkingly slipping her fingers down to rub at her clit, and pulling her bolster down so that she rubbed against it with every thrust.  
She barely noticed John’s thrusts becoming faster and harder- she was to busy chasing her own finish, gasping and shimmying up against the bolster, her toes curling with every stroke.  
Zatanna didn’t make a sound when she came, instead silently gasping into her pillow and clutching with one hand at John’s shoulder, riding out her orgasm by grinding down onto his cock and wrapping her legs around him, giving a sharp exhale with each of his rapid thrusts. John’s breathing started to labor, and he gave a few sharp final thrusts and finished with a judder.  
Exhausted, he sunk down onto her body, her skin hot, glowing and sticky and tasting of salt. He nuzzled his face into her breast and she petted his hair affectionately, tracing little spirals into his scalp with the tips of her fingernails and whispering drunken affections, barely audible, into the top of his head . Constantine sighed and shut his eyes, inhaling her scent and making and effort to think of nothing, the moment feeling so fragile and precious that perhaps even musing on it too hard might cause it to shatter into a million pieces. And it was a moment he thought worth preserving.

*************************************

After a few minutes, she began to overheat and pushed him off of her, shifting to lie on her front a little way from him. Constantine propped himself up on his elbows and observed her, rubbing at his face. Even though she was laid on her stomach, if he paid attention he could see her ribs expanding and deflating with her steady breathing. He wondered if she was asleep just yet.  
“Hey, Zee?”  
“Hmm?”  
Ah, shit. Now what was he gonna say? He hadn’t thought this through.  
There was an unnaturally long pause as he quickly tried to justify getting her attention.  
“Are you alright?”  
She said something into her pillow.  
“What?”  
“I said “very”  
“Oh.”  
She exhaled into the pillowcase contentedly, then reached out blindly, flailing for his hand. He offered it and she took it in her own, turning her head so she could rub his palm against her cheek, eyes still closed and murmuring what might have been words, or might not have.

For once, he was speechless.

And then Zatanna began to snore loudly, and John found himself rolling his eyes, pulling his pillow over his head and thinking about how many Xs it was really appropriate to sign off a text with, anyway.  
God only knew, really.


End file.
